Jack Redmen Poems

Count as witness to the fusion in your chest, your bindbreaths that
call down creation; Count as witness this applecore heart of mine.

Only in my bones do I dare keep you. And they would hold as adamantine
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Pay no mind to the fishing boats, the seanight must swallow them. The fisherman will still send us the sadness locked in his calloused hands. Hidden in the stinging wind, and marching with the drowning waves.

And if you must call out to him, wring your hands and wail some new song, some untold melody. For the solitude and the tides and the gasoline have almost deafened him.
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